


A Little Bit Closer

by Sauronix



Series: The Sweetest Leaf [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Finger Fucking, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostate Orgasm, Rimming, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 22:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11564517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauronix/pseuds/Sauronix
Summary: Gladio rummages through his bag, pulling out an unopened purple box of Behemoth brand condoms and a bottle of lube, waggling both at Iggy.“Picked ‘em up at the Coernix Station when we stopped for gas earlier today,” he says.He tosses Iggy the bottle of lube. It bounces once on the mattress, and Iggy picks it up, reading the label with a raised eyebrow. “Strawberry-flavoured, Gladio? Really?”Gladio lets it slip that he wants to take the next step with Iggy—and Iggy agrees.





	A Little Bit Closer

**Author's Note:**

> After re-writing this fic three times and wailing at length about how it's an unmanageable monster, I've decided to break it into three parts. The tags may change as I complete the next two chapters.
> 
> Also, required listening for this fic...and possibly the entire series: https://youtu.be/9e9NSMY8QiQ

Gladio nearly gets down on his knees and praises the fucking gods when Noct says he’s turning in early.  
  
They’re in the middle of a game of Hearts, huddled around the coffee table in one of the two rooms Iggy rented for them at the Leville in Lestallum. The fans above the beds blow at full blast, but in this humidity, they’re working about as well as Ramuh’s decrepit dick. Gladio’s already stripped down to his tank top and boxers. It’s a damn good thing Iggy sucked him off at the rest stop earlier today, otherwise he’d still be stuck in his Crownsguard pants, suffering through a boner and a gnarly case of thigh chafe.  
  
“Are you sure, Noct?” Ignis asks, frowning at his watch, and even though Gladio really wants to kiss him, he also kind of wants to strangle him for opening his big mouth. “It’s only eight-thirty. The night is still young.”  
  
Noct tosses his cards on the table, hiding a yawn behind his fist. “Yeah, I know. Guess that hunt today really took it out of me.”  
  
“You’re not feeling under the weather, are you?” Iggy reaches out and places the back of his hand against Noct’s forehead.  
  
Predictably, Noct bats him away. “I’m fine, Specs, just tired. Sheesh, will you relax?”  
  
“Very well.” Ignis puts down his cards, too. “Off to bed with you, then.”  
  
Noct rises, stretching, and with a final, “Night, guys,” he heads for the door. Gladio bores a hole through Prompto with his eyes, willing him to follow Noct. He usually does. But now he’s just sitting there, thumbing through his phone. He even pulls his feet up into the chair like he’s settling in for the long haul.  
  
For the love of the Six.  
  
Gladio clears his throat, maybe a little too loud. “Guess I’m gonna take a shower.”  
  
“Sure thing, big guy.” Prompto doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Maybe we can play another round after?”  
  
Gladio’s gonna lose his fucking mind. Sure, his cock ain’t hard yet, but this is the first time he and Iggy will have a few hours to themselves since their last stay in Lestallum, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make the most of it. He glances at Iggy, his eyes pleading for help. If there’s one thing Iggy’s good at, it’s lending a hand.  
  
“Actually, Prompto, I’m feeling rather tired myself,” Iggy says. He rises, collecting their wine glasses and bringing them to the kitchenette. “Perhaps it would be best if we all called it a night.”  
  
“But you just said the night’s still young.”  
  
Iggy runs the tap, rinsing out the glasses one by one and setting them to dry on a dishtowel. “That was before I realized how exhausted I really am. So if you don’t mind…”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Prompto sighs, picks himself up out of the chair, and slides his phone into his back pocket. “I hear you loud and clear, buddy. See you guys in the morning.”  
  
The room feels quiet after he goes. Gladio watches Iggy finish up at the sink, eyes lingering on his narrow hips and tight ass. As views go, it’s not bad. Not bad at all. Postcard perfect, even. But he’s done with looking. Gladio gets up and goes to him, sliding an arm around his waist and pressing his lips to the side of his neck. His shirt, damp with sweat, sticks to Gladio’s skin.  
  
“Pretty sure the dishes can wait until tomorrow,” he murmurs.  
  
Ignis sighs and angles his head so Gladio can shower his throat and ear and hair with kisses. “I won’t be able to sleep if I know they’re sitting here dirty.”  
  
“Anyone ever told you you need to relax a little?” Gladio puts his hands on Iggy’s hips and turns him so they’re face to face, pinning him against the counter. “C’mon. Maybe I can help you forget about chores for a while.”  
  
“I have my doubts about that,” Iggy says, but he lets Gladio claim his lips, tilting his head as their tongues meet. By now, they’ve kissed more times than Gladio can count, but it’s still all he needs to get him going. The inside of Iggy’s mouth is so perfectly warm and soft and wet, his breath bitter with the nectar of fermented grapes.  
  
Grinning against his lips, he takes Iggy’s hands and tows him backward, toward the bed. When they reach it, Iggy topples him onto the duvet with a firm push on his chest. Then straddles him. And kisses him, his tongue delving into Gladio’s mouth with a possessive confidence, fingers twining around Gladio’s to pin his hands to the mattress. Fuck. Gladio’s already rock hard, his throbbing dick tenting his boxer shorts. And they aren’t even naked yet.  
  
Iggy breaks the kiss to nip at Gladio’s earlobe. “But perhaps I can be persuaded.”  
  
“Huh?” Gladio groans as Iggy’s lips move to his throat and lay a line of kisses there, soft and promising. “What’re we talking about?”  
  
Iggy laughs and kisses his mouth again, shifting so his weight is sitting right on Gladio’s cock. “I see you’ve stopped thinking with your brain.”  
  
“Can’t help it. That’s what you do to me.” He untangles one of his hands from Iggy’s and fingers the hem of his Crownsguard tee, lifting it just enough to catch a glimpse of the pale skin underneath. “What’s this still doin’ here?”  
  
Obediently, Iggy pulls it over his head and tosses it—tosses it, for fuck’s sake, like it’s a piece of trash—onto the floor. In the buttery glow of the lamp, his body glistens with a film of sweat. Astrals, Gladio can’t get enough of looking at him. Or touching him. He slides a palm up Iggy’s belly and chest, feeling smooth skin and planes of lean muscle, and watches as Iggy’s eyes flutter closed, his mouth opening in pleasure.  
  
Fuck. He’s pretty sure he’s never had anyone this gorgeous sitting in his lap before.  
  
Gladio buries his fingers in the thick, damp hair at the nape of Iggy’s neck and drags him down into a bruising kiss, his teeth pulling at Iggy’s lower lip. And Iggy gives back, just like Gladio knew he would. His hand cradles the side of Gladio’s throat, a gentle gesture that’s at odds with the desperate way he grinds his ass down on Gladio’s cock, breathing hard into their kiss. Shiva’s tits, he kind of wishes Iggy would jerk him off instead.  
  
The way he’s moving in Gladio’s lap is just a reminder that everything they’ve been doing isn’t enough anymore. It used to be enough, back when they were only fooling around to get each other off. But it sure as hell ain’t now.  
  
Because he’s painfully aware that the only things separating his dick and Iggy’s asshole are a pair of dress pants and some flimsy boxer shorts.  
  
Iggy shifts a little in his lap, and the friction drives a lance of heat right into the head of Gladio’s dick. He breaks the kiss on a moan. “Gods, Iggy, please.”  
  
“Please what?”  
  
“You’re killin’ me.”  
  
Iggy smirks and rolls his hips again, relentless. “Is it my mouth you want?”  
  
The sensation wrenches a gasp out of Gladio. “Fuck, no, your ass.” _Oh, Astrals._ His eyes fly open as he realizes what he’s just said. “Shit, Iggy, I’m sorry. Forget I said that.”  
  
Iggy looks down at him, his face totally unreadable, eyes obscured by the glare of the lamp on his glasses. Gladio wants to kick himself. He’s been agonizing over how to tell him for a couple of weeks now, and _this_ is how he lets the cat out of the bag?  
  
He tries again. “I didn’t mean—”  
  
“So you don’t want to have sexual intercourse with me?” Iggy interrupts.  
  
Gladio cringes. Why does Iggy have to say it like he’s reading from a textbook? He sighs and drops his head against the mattress. “Shit. I do. Been thinkin’ about it for awhile now. I didn’t know how to tell you.”  
  
“And yet you’ve just said it so plainly.”  
  
“I wasn’t planning to say it like that.” Oh, gods. He’s cringing again. “Look, Iggy, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Blowjobs are fine. Great, even.” Why can’t the bed just eat him alive? He’s pretty sure he saw that in a horror movie once. “I mean, I’m not gonna ask you to take a dick when you’ve never done it before.”  
  
Iggy frowns at him. “I have done it before.”  
  
“What?” Gladio lifts his head to frown back at him. “You have?”  
  
“Once. I didn’t enjoy it very much, though.”  
  
Well, that’s that, then. Gladio throws an arm over his eyes and sighs, his boner wilting.  
  
“I suspect, however, that it had rather more to do with my partner than the act itself.” Iggy pulls Gladio’s arm away from his face and smiles down at him, one eyebrow raised. “I’d be willing to try it with you. More than willing, to be honest.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
Iggy nods. “Yes. I trust you’ll be considerate of my pleasure and not just your own?”  
  
“Fuck, yeah, you know I will.” Gladio sits up so fast he almost throws Iggy across the bed. “Can we try now?”  
  
“This very minute? But we don’t have—”  
  
Gladio twists his hips, dumping Iggy onto the bed beside him. He crosses the room in a few eager strides and rummages through his bag, pulling out an unopened purple box of Behemoth brand condoms and a bottle of lube, waggling both at Iggy.  
  
“Picked ‘em up at the Coernix Station when we stopped for gas earlier today,” he says.  
  
He tosses Iggy the bottle of lube. It bounces once on the mattress, and Iggy picks it up, reading the label with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Strawberry-flavoured, Gladio? Really?”  
  
Gladio shrugs, climbing back onto the bed with him. “It was that or lime.”  
  
“Well, in that case, you chose wisely.”  
  
They both go silent, looking at each other from opposite sides of the bed. Gladio’s heart feels like it’s doing somersaults in his chest. He’s been waiting for this for weeks—fuck, how many times has he beaten off in the shower to the thought of it?—but now that they’re here, he’s not sure how to start.  
  
“Guess we should get undressed,” he finally says.  
  
“Yes, I suppose we should,” Iggy says softly.  
  
Gladio makes the first move. He pulls off his tank top and shucks himself out of his boxer shorts before lying down on his side, head propped up in one hand as he watches Iggy take off his clothes. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s seen it. He’ll probably never get enough of Iggy baring himself one garment at a time, revealing chiseled hipbones, the toned curve of his ass, then the lean lines of his thighs.  
  
Iggy never tries to make it sexy, but it is anyway. Mostly because it’s for Gladio’s benefit and no one else’s.  
  
Gladio pats the bed next to him. “C’mon. Lie down with me.”  
  
Iggy stretches out with his head on the pillow. In the dim lamplight, his wide, dark eyes search Gladio’s face, the furrow between his eyebrows smoothing out. Gladio can’t help but notice that his cock’s lying soft against his thigh now. Damn. Is he nervous? ‘Cause Gladio’s nervous. Forget butterflies. He’s got bats flapping around in his stomach. Shifting closer, he cups Iggy’s cheek and kisses him softly on the lips, hoping to put him at ease.  
  
“You sure you wanna do this?” he murmurs.  
  
“Yes, Gladio.”  
  
“ _Totally_ sure?”  
  
“I am positive.” Iggy places a hand on Gladio’s hip, his thumb stroking over the bone. Gladio’s dick twitches at his touch. “I just need to relax a little, that’s all.”  
  
“What can I do to help?”  
  
Iggy’s eyes linger on his lips. “Kiss me.”  
  
Now that, he can do. Gladio puts an arm around him, pulling him close, and brings their mouths together. Just like his lips, Iggy’s skin is hot under Gladio’s hand, the small of his back downed with fine hairs. Gladio’s fingertips stroke a path down his spine, pausing when they reach the crack of his ass before flitting away again. He keeps his touches light, teasing, even though he’s dying to push his fingers between Iggy’s cheeks and finger his asshole.  
  
But he’s sure as hell not gonna do it until Iggy tells him he’s ready.  
  
“Why is this so important to you?” Iggy murmurs against his lips.  
  
Gladio thinks about it for a second. There’s no logical answer. Iggy can get him off just fine with his hands and mouth, but Gladio longs for him in a way he can’t explain. “Dunno. I just…I wanna know how it feels to come inside you.”  
  
Iggy’s lips part, just a fraction.  
  
_Oh, Ifrit’s flaming nutsack._ He’s said a lot of crazy shit between the sheets before, but never anything so gods-damned cheesy. Face heating in embarrassment, Gladio crushes Iggy to his chest and claims his mouth again, quieting him before he can ask any more questions, or worse, kick Gladio out of bed for uttering something so stupid.  
  
But Iggy just melts against him, eyes closing, and moans into his mouth. Gladio takes it as permission to keep doing what he was doing. Slowly, he traces every knob of Iggy’s spine, draws loops and circles on the soft meat of Iggy’s ass before he repeats the motions.  
  
Gladio’s phone buzzes on the nightstand. Iggy breaks away, turning to reach for it, but Gladio grabs him around the waist to stop him.  
  
“Leave it,” he says. “Whatever it is, it can wait until later.”  
  
“But Noct—”  
  
“He’s sleeping. It’s probably just spam or something.”  
  
Iggy bites his lip. For a second, Gladio thinks he’s going to go for the phone anyway, but then he lets Gladio draw him back into a kiss, his mouth opening to meet Gladio’s tongue with his own.  
  
Gladio moves to nuzzle the hollow of Iggy’s throat, licking at the sweat gathered there. Iggy’s hard again, thrusting his dick shallowly against Gladio’s belly. And then, as Gladio’s finger ventures further down the crack of his ass, Iggy hooks his leg over Gladio’s hip, opening himself up. Gladio’s breath stutters, his blood simmering just under the surface of his skin, as his finger grazes that tight ring of muscle.  
  
Oh, Astrals. Did Iggy mean to do that? He hesitates, pulling back to look into his eyes.  
  
“Get the lubricant,” Iggy says.  
  
Gladio’s dick fucking _throbs_. He reaches across Iggy and grabs the bottle with one trembling hand, pulls the cap open between his teeth. With the leg that’s hooked over his hip, Iggy draws him closer, until their dicks rub together, and Gladio has to pause to bite back a grunt before he can continue. He squeezes the lube onto his fingers, slicking it with his thumb to warm it up.  
  
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, positioning his finger between Iggy’s ass cheeks. “I will. Promise.”  
  
Iggy nods, his eyes closing, and Gladio rubs the pad of his finger over the furrowed skin, letting Iggy adjust to the feeling before he does anything else. For a minute, he just teases Iggy’s asshole, tracing light circles there. He watches Iggy’s face as he does it, logging every one of his reactions—the twitch of his eyebrows, the flare of his nostrils, the way he bites his lip hard when Gladio finally starts pushing his finger into him.  
  
Then he groans, his whole body going stiff.  
  
“Sorry. Should I stop?” Gladio asks.  
  
Iggy shakes his head, turning his face into the pillow. “Keep going. Please.”  
  
Nodding, Gladio eases his finger inside inch by inch, his heartbeat picking up as the heat of Iggy’s body sucks him in. Sweet Shiva, he’s tight. Gladio can’t remember the last time he wanted to fuck somebody this bad. He kisses Iggy’s hair, breathing in his sweat and the citrusy scent of his pomade, and pulls his finger out halfway. And thrusts it in again. And out. And in. He builds a slow, steady rhythm, his eyes trained on Iggy’s face for any sign that he should stop.  
  
Iggy turns his head so they can kiss. Gladio’s tongue darts into his mouth, mirroring the motions of his finger. An insistent hand on his ass urges him to move, so Gladio does, thrusting his hips against Iggy’s dick. Oh, yeah. This is good. This is—  
  
A hammering at the door startles them apart. Iggy goes rigid in his arms, and they stare at each other, frozen, neither sure how to react. Who the fuck could it be at this hour? They haven’t ordered room service. Noct should be fast asleep by now. And Prompto…  
  
Aw, dammit.  
  
Gingerly, he slips his finger out of Iggy and reaches across him to grab his phone off the table. The green notification light winks at him, cheekily, like it knows it’s fucking up his night. He scowls, swipes the screen to wake it, and finds a text from Prompto waiting.  
  
**Prompto (09/01, 9:08 PM):** Hey buddy I forgot my phone charger over there. Mind if I come grab it?  
  
Fuck.  
  
There’s another knock, followed by Prompto’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. Iggy springs out of bed like he’s been poked in the ass with a cattle prod and starts grabbing his clothes off the floor. Gladio finds his boxers and pulls them on, tucking his dick into the band to stop them from tenting. For good measure, he wicks the precome from the head with his thumb, wiping it on the leg of his boxers.  
  
“Don’t bother getting dressed. Just take it all into the bathroom,” Gladio says, pulling one of the Leville’s fluffy white housecoats out of the closet. “I’ll deal with him.”  
  
He shrugs into the housecoat and belts it loosely at the waist, making damn well sure it’s covering his boner. Once Iggy’s shut himself in the bathroom, Gladio runs a hand through his hair and opens the door. Prompto’s leaning against the wall outside, scrolling through some texts on his phone. He raises an eyebrow when he sees Gladio.  
  
“Sheesh, what took you so long?” he asks.  
  
“I had my headphones in,” Gladio grumbles. “Wasn’t expecting you back here tonight. What do you want?”  
  
“Don’t you read your texts, big guy? I told you I forgot my charger.”  
  
Sighing, Gladio stands back, pulling the door open wider to let him in. “Make it quick.”  
  
Prompto steps past him and into the room. Iggy’s got the sink running in the bathroom, as if he’s actually doing something other than hiding in there. Every muscle in his body tense, Gladio watches as Prompto sweeps the room with his eyes. Shit. Does it look suspicious that the covers of only one bed are rumpled?  
  
And oh, fucking Six, is that the box of condoms on the floor?  
  
Gladio squints. Yeah. Yeah, it is.  
  
Prompto isn’t looking there anymore, though. He’s found his charger, plugged into the socket next to the chair he was sitting in earlier. As casually as Gladio can manage, he steps over to the bed and slides the box underneath it with his foot.  
  
“Thanks, man,” Prompto says, rising with the charger in his hand. The smile on his face is so sheepish that Gladio almost feels bad for being grumpy with him. “Sorry for bothering you. I promise it’ll be the last time tonight.”  
  
“It’s fine.” Gladio hugs the housecoat around himself and walks Prompto to the door. “But I ain’t answering if you try to text me again. The Shield needs his beauty sleep, y’know.”  
  
Prompto winks at him as he steps outside. “Gotta look fresh and youthful for the ladies if you wanna get any use out of those Behemoth condoms, am I right?”  
  
Astrals, he’s oblivious.  
  
Or is he?  
  
Maybe that was a knowing wink. An _I know what you’re up to, but I’m not gonna say it, but I want you to know I know_ kind of wink.  
  
Now there’s a disturbing thought.  
  
“Uh, yeah. Something like that,” Gladio says, and closes the door in Prompto’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd and unedited. Apologies for grammatical, characterization, and pacing errors.
> 
> As usual, if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving kudos or dropping me a comment! I appreciate them more than you know. They keep me going. Thank you! :)


End file.
